When I was in my late twenties, and a young mother, I had to live with my parents for a couple of months while I waited for the army to accommodate me. My husband was in the Falkland Islands and I had a young daughter. I was resentful at losing my independence and wasn’t the best house guest!

One day, when my dad was out playing golf, I heard music in the living room. It wasn’t the type of music mum, who was almost 70, usually listened to. I opened the door quietly and peeped in to see what was going on. What I saw took my breath away and put a huge smile on my face.

My mum was jumping around the living room, swiveling her hips, shaking her arms and dancing as though her life depended on it. She had her back to me and never saw me watching her. Closing the door quietly I want to my little bedroom at the back of the house and left her to dance.

When I’m feeling down I remember that moment. My mum died over ten years ago, and I’m in my early sixties, but I’m going to live life like there’s no tomorrow and dance as long as I can.